Theme week 6

Place

I awoke before him and walked into the living room. Beautiful wood panels covered the walls. Not like the wood panels I remember from the trailer I lived in when I was young, those were obviously fake. You could tell because the 'wood grain' was repeated every few panels. It also had black, grout, I guess you would call it, in between each 'board'. This was nothing like the fake trailer paneling. This was real, individual, wooden boards. They are lined up without a predictable pattern, with no fake grout holding them together. They are joined together with without it, tongue and groove I think it's called. I could be wrong, I don't really remember my one year in woodshop.
The wooden walls make me wonder what the floor looks like, but I can't tell because the room is a furniture graveyard. I am overwhelmed trying to sort through it in my head. But it all looks like it could belong in my home, or it had been in my home at one point. It's a strange feeling. It's all familiar. I scan through the oddly un-foreign furniture for a seat. I need to contemplate my relationship and potential new family I have just met. 
I see an oversized armchair in the corner. It is completely buried, but looks like a great spot if I can make my way over to it. It faces one of the two huge picture windows making up the front of the house. I plot my route and climb over an old computer in a box it doesn't fit in. The next obstacle is an end table with a spot to put magazines. It looks like someone abandoned it in a mad dash to clear a room, magazines and all. I finally arrive in the corner of the room where the armchair sits. I move a box of nursing text books out of the seat. It is not really heavy but takes a lot of energy due to my morning, no-muscle-tone. But it is worth it in the end.
I sit cross-legged and turn my head to the most breathtaking view I have seen in my life. It is the dead of winter and the ground is covered with snow. Not the sticky, dense kind, but the light and fluffy kind. I can tell because the dog has made a series of trails all through the yard. Also, the tree branches are not sagging with the weight of heavy snow. The sun has just come up though I can't see it, just it's orange glow across the sky. About 100 feet in front of me is a partially frozen river. Near the banks are plates of ice that look like they will break off any time and float away. The center of the river is constantly moving with tiny white-caps.
My eyes are drawn to a small movement across the river. A doe and her three fawns step cautiously to the edge of the river. Every few seconds the doe pauses, raises her head to look around, and then continues on. Her fawns follow her exact footsteps and pause every time she does. Growing up next to a field, I have seen many deer in my lifetime. But somehow these deer seem more majestic. Maybe it's the beauty that surrounds them that enhances their own.
I hear my boyfriend moving around in the bedroom and soon he emerges. We say nothing. He finds the same path as I did over to the arm chair and squeezes in next to me. We sit in silence and watch the deer. I think about how strange it is to be so comfortable here. I feel as if I have been here before. Not like deja vu, but just a sense of belonging. Like the furniture, a tumult of items thrown together, we were brought together in chaos. But even through the craziness, it fits. It doesn't feel chaotic in the least, it is calming, familiar, beautiful.